Seventeen

Seventeen

1 day until the wedding

"Everything happens for a reason." I rip the paper in half. "The best is yet to come." I rip the sheet again. "It's all good." Another rip. "We'll figure it out." Another rip, then another, and another, until the list of interviews, and potential jobs is nothing but a tiny pile in my hands.

"Avery!"

My hands fling up, and the tiny pile of paper shreds goes flying into the air like confetti. I watch as they all fittingly flutter to the floor, and I can't help but laugh.

This means, it was meant to be. This means, this is exactly what I need.

A fresh start.

"I'm sorry," my mom says as she steps through my bedroom doorway to help me pick up the pieces.

"It's okay." I continue to laugh, but I soon find that I can't stop.

The laughter bubbles out of me, strains my cheeks, and makes my shoulders shake. My mom begins laughing at the fact that I'm laughing before she finally shoves the paper pieces into my hand.

"Come' on, you weirdo." She lightly shoves me before her black dress pant covered legs are walking back out of the room. "We're going to be late." She calls over her shoulder.

Once the last of my chuckles finally fade away, I slowly push myself back onto my feet. I toss the scraps of paper in the little garbage can in the corner of my room before heading to the bathroom. I spray one last round of perfume around myself before assessing myself in the mirror one last time. My attire mimics my mom's. Both of us are wearing black dress pants, and black flats. I only happen to be wearing a grey puffy sleeved blouse, while my mom adorns a sparkly black quarter-sleeve sweater.

"Avery!" my dad's shout rings throughout the house this time, and I quickly shut the light off before heading down stairs.

I'm no longer pouting. I can't possibly pout since the wedding is tomorrow. I'm, once again, fairly content with the world. My thoughts are still and clear. I've accepted, forgiven, and am ready for tomorrow.

I'm just still on the verge of letting go, and, for now, that's close enough.

****

"I still think I should officiate."

Ben barks out a laugh. "You don't have a license."

"I'll get it online. It'll take two seconds." Ben's dad, Baxter, whips his cellphone out of his pocket.

"He's right," my dad chimes in. "I can do it, too." Now my dad is also taping away on his own cell phone.

"I say we all just do it." Ben's other dad, Connor, adds with a laugh as he peers over his husband's shoulder.

"You guys, he said he's just running a few minutes late," my sister defends the priest her and Ben asked to officiate their traditional church wedding.

"But, honey, this guy is always running late. How do you know he's not going to do this tomorrow?" the worry is written all over my mom's face, but I think most of it stems from wanting Aubrey's entire wedding day to go smoothly, not just tonight.

"I'm not worried." My sister waves her hand. "Plus, Mikayla and Aunt Aspen are still stuck in traffic."

"If anyone's going to officiate this wedding, it's going to be me," my grandma finally declares as she now stands at the center of the altar.

When she sees she's now gained everyone's attention, she turns and bows to the stain glass windows behind her before turning back around and spreading her arms out. The light blue sweater she's wearing gives her angel-like wings, but her red lipstick covered lips tip up to one side in a demonic grin.

"Let's get this show on the road."

"Really, ma?" my dad flings his arm out in my grandma's direction, and that's all it takes for most us to start laughing.

I try to keep my laughter to myself, but when it becomes harder to contain, I direct it up toward the ceiling as I slouch further down in the church pew. I blink my eyes a few times, and once my laughter officially fades my gaze remains on the wooden architecture. The high ceiling never ceases to amaze me, but I've always wondered why the wooden planks that uphold the structure aren't linear. Instead, they overlap, and intersect each other as they run in every direction.

"What are you—"

My butt flies up from the bench at the sound of a voice, and I turn my head only to find a crouched Nathaniel Graham whose mouth is now a curved line of a smile because of my antics.

"What are you doing all the way back here?" Opposed to the amusement I was expecting, Nate's voice remains a low octave.

I find myself holding his gaze for an extra second before turning back around with a shrug.

"That's it?" his eyebrow raises in my peripheral vision. "Nothing new?"

I can only bring myself to shrug again as my eyes find my sister, who's chatting all the way at the front of the church with the rest of our family starring in the wedding, and the family she's hours away from becoming in-laws to.

"I don't believe that." Nate finally stands up from his squat position, and my vision is momentarily blocked by his navy-blue slacks before he plops down beside me. "Well, it is a nice view, I'll give you that."

I turn my head to the left and watch as he rolls up the sleeves of his light blue button down. My eyes dart up on their own accord, and the second our eyes meet, Nate's lips curve up again, and I find my own lips quivering upward in response.

"What?" Nate flashes me with his teeth.

I shake my head to prevent myself from doing the same. "Nothing."

My eyes find my grandma, who still happens to be flapping her sweater wings up at the altar, but when I still feel dark brown eyes burning into my temple, I jut my elbow out.

"Stop." I say as my reason for lightly elbowing his bicep.

A chuckle vibrates from his chest. "I didn't say anything."

"I know, but—" I huff when I have nothing coherent to say.

"But, what?" Nate gently lifts his elbow up, giving me a halfhearted shove.

I keep my gaze ahead as I mimic the gesture, and he doesn't hesitate in reciprocating. This childish process repeats for a few seconds before the neutral façade I've been trying to wear finally breaks, and I double over in laughter. When my cackle only echoes around us, I quickly cup a hand around my mouth to match the tone of Nate's quiet chuckles.

"Nate!"

Both our heads snap back up to the altar to meet Ben's expectant gaze. When Ben sees that he's grabbed Nate's attention, he beckons him over with a wave of his hand.

My neutral expression returns, but I'm tempted to break it again when Nate lets out a low groan beside me. I fold my arms across my chest and slouch back down against the wooden pew as Nate stands back up. I prepare myself to stare back into space as Nate takes a small step to the side. I dart my eyes down to my own pants to avoid staring at his backside, but then his lips are by my ear.

"Wish me luck," he whispers the words in the same way he initially tried to greet me, but this time it's my heart that jumps out of my chest cavity opposed to me jumping out of me seat.

My lips part as I logically want to comply to his request, but I only continue to gawk at the back of his head. Then, as if sensing my hesitation, Nate decides to turn back around, and flash me with a grin over his shoulder, and although I remain completely frozen in my dumbfounded position, I'm internally on fire.

****

"Okay, so before we leave, because I know you're all hungry, Aubrey and I would like to take a moment to thank you all for being here." Ben reaches for my older sister's hand, and they trade smiles once their fingers are perfectly intertwined.

"Thank you for all your support, not only with the wedding, but since the day we met. All of you have embraced us with open arms, both individually and as a couple." My sister's smile never wavers as she says the words, and since she hasn't stopped smiling since they got their marriage license at the county court last week, I'm convinced she never will.

"And since you are some of our nearest and dearest," Ben continues with his own unwavering smile, "we wanted to say our written vows in front of only you."

A few of the groomsmen mockingly groan. I quickly use my hand to hide my laugh when my dad is also one of those people, and my mom's hand instantly darts out to whack his stomach.

"We couldn't decide whether we wanted to write our vows or not, but we figured this is the perfect solution because now we can do both," my sister defends their idea.

"And it'll give us some practice," Ben adds, but now Aubrey's the one slapping his grey suit jacket covered stomach. "Just bear with us." Ben laughs before the couple turns to face each other and holds their hands between them. "I'll go first." Ben flashes my sister with his smile.

"Well, that's usually how it goes." The priest chuckles at his own joke.

My sister's head snaps in his direction so fast that I'm surprised she didn't snap her neck. "Are you saying that a woman can't state her wedding vows first?"

The priest immediately begins coughing into his fist. "No, it's just—"

My sister's eyes land on her fiancé again. "I want to go first tomorrow."

Ben opens and closes his mouth. "That's fine, baby."

"But Ms. James—"

My sister's eyes sear the priest again and he straightens his posture, but the sheen of sweat on his forehead only grows thicker.

"I just think by tradition—in practice—"

A light tap on my knuckles brings my gaze over to my grandma as she sits beside me.

"Just think, in a couple years, that's going to be you."

My eyes immediately widen at the idea that my grandma is comparing me to the sweaty priest who is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but my grandma then uses her hand to gesture to the couple standing in front of him, and the snort I emit makes my parents jump as they continue to have their own side conversation on the opposite side of me.

"I don't know, grandma. I actually don't think I want to get married." I luckily don't even flinch at the gasp she emits, but rather keep my gaze locked on the stain glass window behind the altar as I continue to say the words that have been tumbling inside my head for a few years now. "You probably think I'm crazy, but I just want someone to wake up and be with me because they want to. Not because a piece of paper, or money forces them to."

My grandma gasps again, and I turn my head to try to explain some more only to find that she's staring down at her cellphone.

"Dammit! I was so close to beating that level."

"Okay, everyone!" my sister's voice ricochets throughout the building. "We decided we are going to alternate tomorrow, so everything is equal."

"Wonderful," the priest squeaks as he tugs at the collar of his shirt.

****

The music is turned low to fit the dim restaurant atmosphere, but I still appreciate the fact that it's an old pop song playing, and the fact that a few of the waiters floating around me are mouthing along to it. Aubrey and Ben reserved two long rectangular tables in a restaurant that is a little fancier than we'd normally go to, and a little farther away, but I'm not complaining. I'm sitting at the end of one of the tables accompanied by the glass in my hand and my family's chatter as everyone from the church slowly trickles in and decides where to sit.

"That's what I need!" the cutlery jingles when Nate ends his statement with a slam of his hands against the table. "You are so jumpy." He lightly chuckles at the way my spine straightened against the dark wooden back of my chair, but I'm just happy I didn't spill anything on myself. "What are you drinking?" Nate plops down into the chair adjacent to mine at the head of the table.

I finally release the tiny black straw from in between my teeth. "A Shirley temple."

His eyebrows jump up to his hairline. "I haven't had one of those in forever."

"What can I get you?" our waiter asks as he now stands between us with his white button down, black slacks, and a note pad clutched in his right hand.

Since I already have a drink, my eyes remain on Nate. He smooths a hand down his chest as he contemplates his order. "A rum and coke will do."

Nate's eyes lock with mine again, and a smile returns to his face. The waiter flips the top of his notepad closed and goes to step away, but Nate quickly darts his arm out.

"Oh, and may I get a shot of vodka, please?"

Now my eyebrows are the one's shooting up, but Nate only continues to smile back at me while I continue to keep my lips wrapped around my straw.

A ringtone blares over not only all the chatter, but also the music. Everyone begins searching for their cellphone in my peripheral vision, and Nate even pats down his own pockets before he pulls out his own cellular device. He seems to glance down at the time before pocketing it again while my mom answers the call that spurred the rest of the dramatics.

"Mikayla left her phone at the church, so they had to go all the way back."

I ease drop on the slightly whispered words that my mom recites to my sister before the waiter's back on my right. The circular tray hovers above my head as the waiter drops Nate's drinks off in front of him before moving on to the rest of the people sitting at our table.

Nate picks up the lime wedge sitting on the edge of his glass and drops it into the dark brown liquid. He picks up his drink and takes a sip before looking down at it in disgust.

"I've been gypped."

My eyebrows furrow as my front teeth continue to chew on my straw.

"Look at this." Nate tilts his drink in my direction. "I have way more ice cubes than liquid." His eyebrows draw together as he stares down at the glass for an extra second before he places it down. "Can I see yours?"

It takes my brain an extra second to register his request before I hold it out to him. "It's probably melted by now."

The glass easily slips from my fingers as he gently takes it from my grasp. I wipe my finger tips on my napkin before taking the white material and resting it in my lap. Nate curiously inspects the red liquid in my cup before he grabs the small shot of vodka and casually pours it in.

My eyeballs almost pop out of their sockets, and I turn my head to see if anyone else saw the casual, yet mischievous action, but everyone is still either wrapped up in their own conversations, or their cellphones. I direct my surprise back over to the guy who's the source of it, but he only sends me a sheepish smile in return.

"I just thought you could use a little something." He gently places the glass back in front of my plate.

I open and close my mouth a few times before slowly wrapping my fingers back around the condensation covered glass. "Thank you." I tip the cup in his direction in a small cheer before lifting the glass back up and wrapping my lips around the straw.

"You're welcome, Avery James." His grin is back, and my smile is instantaneous.

I'm momentarily stunned by the burn in the back of my throat when I finally take another sip of my newly made alcoholic Shirley Temple. I've never really cared for the taste of alcohol, but I decide that today I like the slight buzz it will eventually provide me. My parents are also driving me home, and by the looks of the steaming coffee mugs in front of them, I'm assured that I'll be safe.

"So, really no honeymoon?" I overhear Brenna ask my sister.

"Not right away. We are still deciding on whether to save a little more, and go somewhere exotic, or maybe even save all our money to finally buy a house."

"I say you go away. Go to the tropics, sip piña coladas, and take me with you." Sasha's curls jiggle as she barks out a laugh at her own remark.

"If I could, I would," my sister chimes in agreement.

My eyes narrow in on the corner of the table, and I will myself to focus on the white table cloth dangling there, suspended above the ground.

"Hey," Nate gently whispers the word in attempt to regain my attention, but I still don't look up.

"That's going to be so weird," Brenna admits. "When you guys finally get a house."

"Please, for the love of god," Sasha groans. "Don't get a white picket fence."

"I can see it, though," Brenna continues. "You and Ben both working and coming home to your little two-story house. Pretty soon you'll be driving a minivan and popping out babies!"

The three of them begin squealing and laughing at the idea.

"Avery James."

I finally bring my eyes back up to meet Nathaniel Graham's. He stares back at me with those dark chocolate eyes of his, with the same amount of concern that's been melting inside them since we locked eyes today.

I've tried so hard to get over things. I've tried so hard to keep a neutral face.

We haven't seen each other in a few weeks, and yet he still sees right through it all.

He always does.

"Is everything—"

My straw cuts off his question as I obnoxiously suck in the last of my drink before I slam the glass down on the table.

"I have to pee."